


Hourglass

by bloodrunsred



Series: Learn the Alphabet with Wade and Peter [8]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Peter, M/M, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Secret Relationship, Spideypool Bingo 2019, Time Shenanigans, Time Travel, Timeline What Timeline, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug, Wade Wilson is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2020-12-24 01:09:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21090875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodrunsred/pseuds/bloodrunsred
Summary: When Wade is thrown back in time, he keeps running into a cutie-pie named Peter, who he just happens to be married to... who he might be cheating on with Spider-Man.Fuck.





	Hourglass

**Author's Note:**

> H is for Hourglass.
> 
> Song of the Day: Share Your Address, sung by Ben Platt.

_"Like sands run through the hourglass,_

_So are the days of our lives."_

* * *

The thing is, Wade hasn’t had much hope for the future.

The second thing is that he isn’t quite sure how time-travel works. He does know that there’s some degree of science behind it, some degree of utter B.S that he can smell from a mile away, but that’s it. Nothing else. Using Cable’s doo-hickey was supposed to make it easy, and get rid of the unnecessary exposition like a good little plot device, but now he’s… here.

Whenever _ here _is. He recognises the streets, sure; New York will always be recognisable to him, even if there’s something distinctly different that he can’t quite place a scarred finger on. Still, there’s something strange in the bitter sting of snow against his bare flesh, especially when he remembers it being summer just moments ago, and him being safe and sound in the X-Mansion, before hurtling through space and time at the click of a button. He had meant to go and clear up the timeline, but this isn’t then. This isn’t any of the times he had wanted to visit.

_ Then _has either happened or won’t for a good while yet, judging purely by the weather.

“Out of the way, asshole,” someone barges past Wade and he’s startled back into the present (whenever that is, he still needs to find out), into the bustling streets of the Big Apple where people are ducking and weaving around each other like dancers on a stage, and Wade can’t help but feel terribly out of place. 

Wade scans the skyline for something familiar, for flashes of red and blue (even Daredevil would be a welcome sight right about now), or for someone flying through the air in a clunky suit. He’s met with disappointment, and he decides to duck back for just a second while he takes a breath and _ processes. _Half-heartedly, he hits at Cable’s time-travel machine, and isn’t surprised when it just creaks sadly. 

He knew that Ellie shouldn’t have been allowed to try and fix it! Why he ever trusted a teenager with something so precious, he might never know.

...Because he has also got the immaturity of a teenager on crack, could be one of his first guesses, though.

Okay. He’s faced much weirder things than this. He doesn’t think that this is an alternate reality just yet, because he hadn’t thought that Cable had that technology, but he’ll have to keep his mind open. That would be easier with a bullet, he thinks to himself as he grabs a man’s newspaper and hat, skipping down the street before the man is even aware of the snow falling on his now bare head.

The date stares up at him, bold and terrifying as he ducks into a coffee shop, his bare feet tracking dirty water all over the pristine floor.

** _December 2, 2025._ **

Fuck. Fuckity fuck, with a scoop of _ what the hell has happened to me _on top. His clothes are becoming irritating to his scars, cold seeping through the thin fabric; he shivers without thinking about it, even if he technically isn’t able to die from pneumonia or whatever else he might contract from this timeline.

He let himself breathe slightly easier as the warmth of the shop sinks into his bones, music playing faintly in the background while the smell of cheap coffee worms its way through his nose into his brain. 

“Wade!”

Turning his head might be the best and worst decision he has ever made. On one hand, the man that is smiling at him sunnily is nothing short of _ adorable. _His hair is fluffy, and his teeth are straight, and his nose has an unmistakable little crook in it, like it’s been broken at least once. It looks cuter on him than most other people that Wade knows. On the other, he doesn’t know this guy that clearly knows him. 

Not yet.

Which begs the question: what has he done? Where’s Cable? Spidey? Anyone from the X-Men? And where is _ he, _since he obviously still exists in this timeline?

...And he’s been standing there, staring at the gorgeous creature, like a serial killer. Shit, he’s a little behind on the times, isn’t he?

He shouldn’t want to laugh so hard at such a shitty joke, but his mouth stretches into a grin without his permission. The barista (his name-tag says _Peter, _and Wade has never loved a name more) smiles back, and leans back to tell one of his coworkers something. The pretty blonde woman glances at the clock on the tiled wall, and rolls her eyes, and Wade could _die _at the sight of Peter shrugging off his apron, ruffling his hair as he steps gracefully from behind the counter.

He’s not allowed to think about a stranger like this (and, shit, what about ‘Ness?), but there’s something so familiar about the smaller male, and numbness from shock, that makes him docile as Peter leads him out of the shop.

“Wade, you dick,” Peter says, linking their arms. “You said you wouldn’t be back from your mission for another week, you big liar! Plus, this is the fifth time you’ve come in early, and you’ve only come to walk me home six times.You know I love you, babe, but c’mon.”

“I’m… sorry?” Wade says, brain still stuck on _ babe. _Peter tuts, looking him up and down briefly before letting out a deep sigh. Wade has heard that sigh before, but he can’t remember where for the life of him--he can’t remember this guy either, with his honey eyes and brilliant smile, but he must, right?

He’d remember a face like that, especially if they met after Weapon-X. If they met before, though…

There’s a few holes in Wade’s brain with no memories to fill the empty space. 

Maybe he’s an old flame that Wade had somehow picked up again, even with his pepperoni face? But that doesn’t explain how, exactly, that would have happened. Man, this is the most confusing thing he has ever experienced in his life. 

“Wadeeee,” Peter whines, breaking through his thoughts like he’s done it a million times before. “You know how I feel about leaving the house in proper clothes! I know you can’t get sick. I know, but you’re still going to give me a heart attack one day!”

Wade might be tempted to stick a needle in him just to see if he bleeds red, if he wasn’t so confused that he could hear his brain packing up and walking out. 

“Mhm,” he says in place of anything else, not sure if he has the ability to actually say something with more substance. Probably not. He’s supposed to be the _ Merc with the Mouth, _and he’s letting some twink out-talk him like the practice is going out of style. Something about this picture isn’t right, and Wade is pretty sure that it might be him, and the fact that he looks like trash, and Peter looks like…

Not-trash. His brain is still working on something more creative, and all he can think is… wow.

“Let’s go home, okay?” Peter smiles up at him and, _ fuck, _ home? As in a place they live in together? As in, someone willingly chose to make and share a life with him? This has to be an alternate universe, where he’s back to looking beautiful and handsome. It has to be; there’s no other explanation. But, looking down at his scarred skin, he knows that that’s not a possibility either, which begs the question: what the _ fuck _is going on? Peter must have expected him to say something, though, and his lips twist into a frown. “Babe?”

“Yeah?” Wade replies, instinctively (though still hesitantly). 

The snow hasn’t stopped, but the route they’re taking has more shaded areas, with ledges and sills that save them from the worst of it. 

“Are you alright? You normally would have talked my ear off about your mission already, or… talked about my ass or something,” Wade dares a quick look and, wow, he really does have a nice ass. “Did something happen? Is it a bad skin day? If it is, you really didn’t need to come and see me. I know you don’t like to go out sometimes after a mission, and-”

“It’s fine!” Wade says, using their linked arms to pull Peter into him briefly. He doesn’t know Peter, but he clearly does, which means making him feel guilty or sad is out of the question. “No, I’m totally fine, I’m all good, bro!”

Wade would normally assume that calling one’s significant other _ bro _is a big no-no move, which is why he’s slightly confused (and amused) when Peter relaxes minutely. Now, how to tell him that Wade has lied to him about who he is.

Unless… Wade isn’t exactly known for his memory. He’s forgotten a face or five after a few rather large shootouts, where his head had been removed from his shoulders more than once, but he doesn’t think he’s ever lost years like this before. He looks down at his wrist, where Cable’s tacky device is still resting. Peter follows his gaze, and laces their fingers in order to lift Wade’s hand up, probably so he can look at it a little closer. 

He wrinkles his nose. “Tacky.”

Well, he wouldn’t be the first mind-reader Wade has met. 

Wade should pull away. He should clear the air right now, should tell Peter that he doesn’t know who he is, doesn’t remember him, and that he’s all but lied to him for the fifteen minutes they’ve been walking together. 

But, fuck, he can already imagine how the betrayal and fear and worry and confusion will make his face crumple like tissue paper, and how his big doe eyes might fill with tears, and how he might jerk away from Wade like he’s contagious instead of clinging to him like he loves him. Wade’s too nice for this.

That decision might change when his brain finally gets with the times, but for now… he doesn’t know what to do. He might as well just let Peter take the lead if he wants to. He doesn’t think he can change his mind now, though, because Peter is fumbling with keys and they’re standing in someone’s doorway. 

Peter’s doorway.

_ Their _doorway?

This is literally the craziest thing that has ever happened to him. There’s an orchestra playing in the back of his mind, drowning out rational thought. The drums are beating a steady tune, and the violins are complimenting the piano, and someone (probably Wade’s ability to Think) clears their throat when Peter twists his key in the lock-

And then they start screaming. Wade would flinch if this hadn’t happened a million times before, and shuffles inside after Peter. The drums have started playing wildly out of beat, and someone smashed the violin over the piano. There’s also a monkey, now, one of the toy ones that crash their cymbals together like they’re clapping at their son’s first kindergarten play.

“Come on,” Peter draws out the _ on, _ and pulls Wade along with him with a deceptive amount of strength. Wade allows himself to be pulled--though Peter seems like the kind of person that would be able to drag him through hell or highwater through sheer stubbornness alone--and tries to take in every single detail of this place. “Why don’t you and I try and get a little warmer, hm? I got you a coming home present and _ everything _.”

Hold up. Hold the holy heck up. 

Nuh uh. Nope. No way. This is not going to devolve into sex. Right? He must have just imagined the lilt in Peter’s voice, and misinterpreted the hand Peter has placed on the back of his neck (the other still pulling him along by his wrist). Is this consent? No, ‘cause that has to be informed and Wade hasn’t been informed by one of the X-Men, and Peter hasn’t been informed by Wade. There’s a circle of not informed, here, and Wade is ready and willing to blame Negasonic Teenage Angstball for it all.

And, ew, she’d be an _ adult _Negasonic Teenage Warhead now. Gross.

“Let’s go out to dinner,” Wade doesn’t have any money. “My treat?” It doesn’t matter.

  
  


*

Thank Christ future Wade keeps large piles of cash stockpiled around the house. 

He takes Peter to a moderately sized restaurant that serves the most amazing mexican food he has ever eaten--authentic and family owned, just the way he likes it. The food is great, and the company… isn’t bad either. Like, at all. In fact, Peter is pretty much the kind of partner Wade has always dreamed of.

He doesn’t stare at Wade’s scars and how they ripple when he eats, muscles flexing in his face, and he doesn’t make fun of Wade for liking how the word chimichanga sounds on his tongue. He laughs at Wade’s jokes, even the more politically incorrect ones, and he makes some genuinely funny ones in return. It’s more friendly than romantic, and Wade is grateful that he isn’t being forced to reveal anything about himself that he isn’t comfortable with. It’s one of the benefits, he supposes, to going on a date with someone who already knows you down to your bone marrow. There’s nothing more that needs to be revealed.

There are some inside jokes that he can’t wait to get, but aside from that, he’s actually enjoying himself.

He used to think his future would be just as dull as his present, but this is nice. It’s better than nice. It’s a dream, and something to look forward to in the future when he’s able to go back. If he even wants to.

Future Wade is probably still around, though, even though he is conveniently still on his mission. 

“You don’t even want to _ know _what Jameson is having me do,” Peter rolls his eyes, poking at his empty plate. Wade makes an encouraging sound as he shovels more tacos into his mouth, waving his hand as if to say, ‘go on’. Peter takes a deep sip from his wine glass. “He’s making me write a story on Spider-Man. Actually write one, instead of just taking the pictures! Wanna come up with story ideas with me?”

Jameson is an asshole, one that has been painting Spidey in a bad light for years. It’s almost a letdown that Peter actually works for him, but people gotta eat. He gets it.

Though… Wade has money…

“Baby,” Wade says, the pet-name falling from his lips easily. It's not lying if Peter approached him, right? “You gotta come and work for me. Just sit there, look pretty, and I’ll give you everything I own.”

“Haha,” Peter says, drier than the Sahara. “It’s not like you say that every time I even mention lifting my finger. Not at all.” He waggles his finger, but he’s probably refilled his wine glass one too many times, and ends up waggling it at the wall beside Wade’s head. 

“Well, I’m stuffed,” Wade says, poking at Peter’s nose. “And I think you are too, if your plate is anything to go by.”

Peter absolutely demolished his nachos, within five minutes of them being served of course. A man after Wade’s own heart. 

The walk back to the house--their house--isn’t terribly long, and Peter is more insistent than Wade would have assumed from his license photo (which is adorable, he saw it when Peter tried to give him his credit card, which he supposedly left behind when he went on his mission). The slight guilt about all-but lying to Peter starts to build up again, but he doesn’t let it get to him. He isn’t doing anything _ bad. _

He’s chaotic neutral. It’s a fun gig.

“Come on, Wadey,” Peter whines as they stumble through the door. “Haven’t you missed me?”

“Of course! But, actually,” Wade says, as Peter tries to lead him to bed. “I think--the X-Men needed me to go and talk to them. About… the mission?” Peter doesn’t look convinced, and there’s a small spark of hurt that is burning bright in his eyes, so Wade rushes to fill the hole he’s dug around himself. “I just wanted to see you! Before I went, I mean.”

Peter holds his head high for a minute more, staring Wade down with a kind of intensity that makes him want to back up a little, if he’s being honest. Peter must like what he sees, or have an inane amount of trust in him, because he ducks his head, pressing it into Wade’s chest. “Oh,” he says, and Wade can see a blush playing at his cheeks when he looks down. “Sometimes I forget what a sap you are.”

Wade is, in fact, a secret romantic. Normally people don’t expect it because of literally every aspect of his appearance and personality, but it’s true. He brings his hands up to rest awkwardly on Peter’s shoulders, unsure of where else he could possibly put them. 

...Okay, so he _ might _have let his fingers skim down the toned curve of Peter’s back. But he doesn’t cop a feel, and he puts his hands right back after! If this was a sitch with a certain metal hunk, or a spider themed hottie, he might have had a different response, but right now he just needs to get the heck outta Oz.

“I told you that the X-Men would come around,” Peter says, brighter than the sun, placing his hands over Wade’s. “After all, the Avengers did, and they’re even more stubborn than them! I’m so proud of you, baby. It is late, though… at least wait until morning, please?”

_ Record scratch. _

Come around to what? What did past future Wade do? Wade had honestly assumed that he could do something drastic (like even _ more _murder) and have the X-Men welcome him back with open arms. Well, not all of them; Wolverine isn’t very fond of him on the best of days, and is rather stabby on the worse ones, and the professor actively avoids him no matter what. But something that would have ostracised him from the whole gang? Almost impossible. They’re all too different to shame him for a single thing.

“Uh,” Wade says. “Right. So I’ve just got to leave, then, so I can get there in time for whatever it is they’re doing. A sing-along? I dunno.”

“Nope,” Peter says firmly. “You can go in the morning. I’ll take you; I know you like it when I-”

“Nope! I’m good!”

Yeah, no, Wade needs to do the adult thing and remove himself from this situation before he gets too distracted to be effective. This is a mission; he’s a soldier, and he can have his fun after he completes the outline. 

Which is, of course, get the heck out of Oz.

So, he removes himself from Peter’s space, letting his gaze wander slightly, staring down dusty photographs of people he can only assume are Peter’s family. They almost look like they’re from the same event, with flowers and trees and-

A wedding cake. _Who is this guy?_

Wade lets himself sneak a glance at Peter’s fingers and, yeah, there’s a band there that he hadn’t noticed before, plain gold and inconspicuous. Wade doesn’t need to look at his own hands to know that he doesn’t have one on his finger, and he shoves his hands in his pockets before Peter notices that it’s missing. He knows what that would look like, knows how badly that would hurt Peter, and he’s not going to ruin whatever’s going on here, or try and make anyone burst into tears. That’s not his style.

It's an easy question to answer. Somehow, Peter is his _husband._

Wade needs some time to collect his thoughts. He hasn’t taken the bus in a while, but tomorrow seems like as good a day as any other.

Peter looks taken aback, like he hadn’t expected Wade to refuse his offer of a lift. Maybe Wade wouldn’t have said no normally, but he can’t really expect Peter to understand his situation right now.

“I think I need some space,” Wade fidgets. This is uncomfortable, and the awkwardness is building up to terrifying levels. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter in the scheme of things. “I’ll just be by myself tonight. If that’s okay. And then I'll just catch the bus tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Peter says, his fingers fidgeting with each other. “That’s--no, yeah, that’s fine. Of course, do whatever you like. I’ll just be here. You can take the bed if you want, and I’ll just stay on the couch. Of course you need space, how silly of me-”

What does matter is that he is still an awkward loser, waving his right hand as he backs out of the door, eyeing the photographs in his line of vision. Pictures of Peter, pictures of people who are probably friends or family, and pictures of a grinning, happy looking Wade.

The bed feels cold and lonely, and he tries not to feel too upset when Peter leaves in the early hours of the morning, the door clicking shut behind him.

He does wonder, though, what exactly a guy like Peter has to do so early in the morning, when the sun isn’t even out yet.

  
  


*

Wade knows roughly where the train station is.

He doesn’t mind the walk, at least, and it’s a relatively easy way to find his bearings, and get used to his new situation. Pepsi ads have evolved, he notes breezily, and barely pauses at the Iron-Man remembrance t-shirts that are being sold by a vendor. A shiver runs down his spine, and he doesn’t stand out among the people that refuse to look at it.

What _ happened _?

He reaches where the train station should be, and scowls. It’s not there, for reasons that probably involve renovation or his shitty memory. He doesn’t want to draw more attention than the amount he’s getting for his face, and he knows more than one way to hitch a ride.

Turning, he scans the buildings surrounding him for one that’s appropriate for his plan. There’s one just opposite him, a townhouse with what certainly looks like an easily accessible roof. 

He can already imagine it. The screaming, the sobbing coming from the people watching or, maybe, just him, blood on the pavement and brain matter splattered every which way. It’s not a pretty sight, but most modern art isn’t, so what should he care? Attention only matters if someone’s dying; it’s genuine, real, and no-one can distinguish the scars that cover his body from the broken bones and skin.

Until he heals.

He’s barely made it to the front door, hand against the cold wood to push it open if it was unlocked, and brace himself to kick it down if it isn’t, when he hears a voice call out, a familiar contradiction of soft and sharp, stern and playful. 

“Don’t even think about it!” 

Spider-Man is a welcome, welcome sight amongst the blend of new and old that has been assaulting his senses for far too long. 

The webbed-wonder swings down from his perch, in a way that would have had Wade swooning if he had seen it just a half-hour before, bouncing on the balls of his feet in front of Wade within seconds. To their credit, the New Yorkers around them barely pay them any mind, aside from a few side glances that make Wade feel like their silence might be his fault.

Oh well; his reputation does precede him.

“Spidey, my man! What’s up, sugar-plum?”

Spider-Man rolls his mask up, in a way that always makes Wade catch his breath, for different reasons than one might expect. Spidey’s identity has always been the hottest thing on the market, known by no-one and wanted by criminals, reporters, and heroes alike. Wade worked with SHIELD a few years back--well, now that he’s in the future it’s a few, _ few _years back--while they were still looking for it, and he remembers how they ran into dead ends around every corner.

The fact that Spidey is willing to reveal even as much as his jaw to Wade, the most loose-lipped person around, has always been a power rush and an ego boost.

Those endorphins last for barely a second, until Spidey does the unthinkable, and pushes his lips against Wade’s in a sweet, chaste kiss that makes Wade want to throw up and die.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Wade could forget about the time-travel, he could forget about the world, he could forget about everything except the way Peter’s smile is sunshine and happiness and warmth that he’s never deserved, but this isn’t something he can push away. This is him, and Spider-Man, and years of fantasies, and bad connotations. 

There’s trouble in the air, Wade can smell it, thick and heavy like gasoline.

Maybe he’s wrong, he thinks, maybe there’s something else involved but Spidey pulls back, a blinding smile directed Wade’s way. “Babe,” he starts, and it takes everything in Wade’s soul not to flinch away from the beautiful, terrible word. “I thought that-”

Wade has hated himself for so long, he’s been so angry at himself for so long, but this? This takes the fucking cake.

Wade’s been a lot of things over the years, but he never thought he’d be a fucking _ cheater. _

The blood pounding in his ears drowns out whatever Spidey follows up with, his mouth moving in slow motion as Wade tries to choke down the bile rising in his throat. He’s seen what cheating has done to people, has seen how it fucks with them like nothing else, and the fact that he would cheat on Peter with Spidey, or on Spidey with Peter, or on both of them with each other… it digs a shallow grave in his chest, of bitter self-loathing and anger.

“I need to go.” Wade says, numb. “I need to--I need to get out of here.”

Spider-Man frowns, even though Wade would rather forget that he had lips at all, and he opens his mouth in what seems like confusion, because of course Spidey wouldn’t know that Wade is a cheater.

God, he would string Wade up by his intestines if he knew. Wade doesn’t even want to imagine how Peter would react, but he thinks that there would be more tears involved, which is almost worse.

“Babe?” Spidey asks, and Wade is _ done. _

Without another word, he pulls himself back and walks away. Spidey makes a wounded noise, one that would have been the same if Wade had ripped his heart right out of his chest. It plays on a loop in his brain, scratchy and terrible quality, feedback screaming in his blood, but he doesn’t let himself look back at the mess he’s made.

He really, really needs to find the X-Men.

He really, really needs to find out what happened to him that he’s like this now, why the world got so fucked up at all, and why there’s a cute guy popping out of the woodwork to make him feel special when he’s secretly _ trash. _Someone there will know, because if they don’t…

Neither hell nor high water will stop him from finding out. Even if people get hurt in the cross-fire. 

He doesn’t know Peter Parker but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get the chance, because the thoughts that plague his mind--_ of blood and fire and anger and Himself in a bloody rage because Peter is his baby _\--are set in stone and truth. He knows himself, and he knows that if he hurts Peter…

The Wade that knows Peter will kill him, if he doesn’t manage to kill himself first. And he’ll find a way to make it stick, because that’s what Wade would do if he had spent years building the life he has now.

Then again, Wade can’t know anything because--_ thoughts of him, of Spidey, of Peter waiting at home alone at night because Wade won’t give him a call to tell him that he’s with someone else _\--he obviously doesn’t know the person he’s become.

He needs a drink. 

He needs someone who knows what the _ fuck _they’re doing. A confused, angry, scared Wade does no-one any favours, and he doesn’t want to test the waters of the universe right now.

He’ll stay still instead of rocking the boat. For now.

  
  


*

An elderly lady points him in the right direction, wrinkled lips pulling into a smile as she blinks up at him through coke-bottle glasses, a gnarled hand patting him on the cheek before she continues hobbling to wherever her destination is.

Wade will forever love New York city; even years in the future, people walk and work and talk and live in the same place but head in different directions, intersecting in chaotic balance.

The hustle and bustle is almost enough to distract him from his mission, but he has a plan.

The X-Men mansion isn’t extremely hard to reach, contrary to popular belief; they use jets because they’re rich but, really, a bus isn’t that hard to catch. It’s a train-ride and a bus trip away, and the walls of the school will hopefully encase Wade in its familiar unfamiliarity. He doesn’t belong there, but he never has anyway so it won’t bother him as much as being a man out of time does currently.

He should audition to be the next Captain America movie. Wade Wilson: Assassin Out Of Time, best-buds with the Winter Soldier, with a bone to pick with HYDRA. Coming to cinemas 2020.

But, wait, _ fuck _, he’s already lived past the release date.

Ew.

The train smells, and he’s pretty sure the guy sitting on the other side of him is playing with something he really shouldn’t be on public transport. Normally, Wade would draw attention to it and crack a joke about joining in, but that Wade is inaccessible for two very simple reasons: one being that his mask is gone, left behind in the X-Mansion years ago (maybe a few hours, to Wade), leaving him more exposed to the public than he’s used to being. The second being Peter. His _ husband _. He never thought monogamy would dull his sharp tongue, but the memory of Spider-Man being so thoroughly forward with him still sits on his tongue like curdled milk.

He ignores the guy. It’s not like he deserves attention, if that’s what he wants, and Wade won’t step in until it hurts anyone. There’s one woman that glances towards the guy occasionally, disgust apparent on her face, but there’s no children near them, so the guy can keep his balls.

He tries to roll his eyes in her direction, clearly meant to say _ can you believe this guy? _But she squeaks instead, mousy hair falling to cover her eyes when she is forced to acknowledge his warped skin. 

Now he knows why the X-Men don’t catch the train, _ Jesus _.

With Colossus’ being a silver hunk, and Ellie Teenage Jerkface and Yukio being decidedly not heterosexual, catching public transport would probably be an absolute nightmare. Fuckin’ intolerance, man. 

The train ride won’t be terribly long, but a nap might be in order just so he can avoid the _ looks _the lady is giving him from behind her hair. He settles in, kicking his feet out and yawning as obnoxiously as he possibly can. He can already smell the fresh air, feel the afternoon breeze against his skin, and imagine the sunset from his unofficial-official room in the mansion. 

Whatever they had been fighting about would be easy to resolve, right? They’re the most forgiving saps he’s ever met in his life, after all.

A few hours later proves that that is _ not _the case.

Colossus doesn’t look all that different, though that’s probably to be expected with his mutation; it still throws Wade for a loop when he sees him, like he’s been flung right back in time. Ellie stands beside him, arms crossed over her chest, Yukio absent for the moment. She still hasn’t grown out of her punk _ Lydia Deetz _phase--which means, presumably, it’ll last forever--but her hair has grown a considerable amount, curling around her shoulders.

It’s cool. Wade isn’t tearing up. He wasn’t emotionally attached to Ellie in any way, and seeing her decidedly older does nothing to him or his developing paternal instincts. Totally cool. Yep. 

“You are not welcome here, Wade,” Colossus stands tall, muscular and stern. It makes Wade want to get a talking to (before he remembers that he is, he thinks, very happily married). “After what you did to us, and to yourself-”

“Yeah, yeah, big boy, I’ve heard it all before,” Wade taps Colossus’ chest once, and then again for good measure because it makes a funny noise when he does. “I’ll totally let you rehabilitate me this time, pinky swear!”

Now would be the perfect time for a shitty sex joke, and it’s all ruined because of Peter! He’s still cute but it makes Wade angry!

“You don’t just get to try and start a war, and then come crawling back five years later, dumbass,” Ellie says, moving to block him when he tries to stroll through the gates. “Wolverine will kill you if he sees you. I’m surprised the Avengers even let you back on their payroll.”

A war? _ Huh? _

“Excuse me,” he says, trying his best to be polite as possible (while also, coincidentally, as patronising as possible), “do you have a phone? Or Spider-Man’s number? Both? Please?”

Because Wednesday Addams secretly loves him, and worries for his mental stability, she lends him her work phone. As in, a phone with contacts that make it priceless on any kind of market; online, white, black, everyone would sell their grandmas for it. It’s a shitty little flip one, but he’s tempted to nab it and run. 

Instead, he clicks on the contact that says _ Spider-Guy _ , which reads like a comic rip-off, and lets the phone ring. Spidey speaks first, voice hoarse and rushed, while Wade cringes internally at the sound. _ “Ells? Is everything okay? This is for emergencies only, are the kids--Wade--okay?” _

“It’s, uh, me,” Wade scratches the back of his neck, feeling impossibly awkward as the not-X-Men X-Men wait for him to finish. “Weird question: throwback to when I tried to start a war with an unspecified individual and-or individuals?”

“Two minutes,” Female Edward Scissorhands pipes up, flipping him off when he pokes his tongue out at her.

_ “I mean, yeah,” _ Spider-Man sounds confused, and slightly worried. _ “You tried to blow my head off. It’s hard to forget.” _

Fuck, what has he done now?

“Shit! Dude, I’m so sorry. Are you… okay? Did I reawaken trauma by asking that?”

_ “No, Wade! You were being controlled, remember? It’s not your fault. Look, if the X-Men are giving you a hard time, just come home, okay? Or put one of them on the phone. I’ve had enough of this anyway.” _

“Have you… been crying?” Wade asks, brow furrowing. He did ditch Spidey for no reason… but he’s only heard the guy cry a handful of times, and those times were normally when he was in a decent amount of pain, or when Wade has accidentally stumbled across one of the rooftops Spidey likes to haunt in the dead of night. Spidey has his issues but, really, what hero doesn’t? He’s beaten down more times than anyone Wade has ever known, and he still always gets back up. It’s astounding. Truly. 

“What? No! Of course not!” Spidey says quickly, and Wade can hear the muffled sniffling as he attempts to gain control of his emotions again. “Just--just put Ellie on, all right?”

What is Wade supposed to say in this scenario, exactly? _ Sorry for ditching you earlier, I actually have a husband and I’ve been stringing you and him, the two nicest people I only kind of know, on for God knows how long. T-T-Y-L. _

So, instead, he mutely hands the phone back over to Ellie.

‘Merc With a Mouth’. What has become of him, that he isn’t living up to his third favourite nickname? The first two being, in order, Jabbering Butt-Plug and the Regenerating Degenerate, of course. 

“Yo, yo, yo,” Abby Sciuto (two points for the NCIS reference!) says, cocking her head to cradle the phone between her shoulder and ear. Wade can hear Spidey talking, but he can’t make out the individual words which is probably for the best considering his very fragile state of mind at the moment.

He tried to kill Spider-Man? His long-time crush, best-friend and work colleague? The only hero that Wade can stand for long periods of time? He really hates this time. He does. It doesn’t matter if he was being controlled--and that’s probably why the X-Men won’t let him get close anymore. He’s a risk.

_ Fuck. _

“You’re the boss,” and, of course it was that easy for Spider-Man to convince Sam Mason to give Wade a chance. He almost wonders why Spidey wouldn’t intervene before, but he knows himself well enough that he’s aware of his pride. Janis Ian flips the phone shut, and jerks her head toward the gate. “Wolverine’s not actually here,” she says. “You can come in.”

Joy.

Ellie looks sad, hesitant. If Wade weren't still struggling to make heads or tails of, well, _everything, _then he would say something to make her laugh. Or flip him off. Or both. As it is, all he knows how to do is shut up and follow. "I wasn't the one who didn't want you back, you know," she says, finally. "They were all just worried, and we know that it wasn't your fault, but you always ended up making our reputation worse, so Wolverine..."

"I get it." Wade says, and he really, really does.

Colossus trails behind them, and Wade struggles not to make a cutting remark about their lack of faith in him, mostly for the obvious reasons. If he makes them pissed now, he’s never going to get back to his time.

“You know Peter, right?” Wade changes the topic as tensions rise, guilt burrowing its way under his skin as he waits for his answer.

Ellie stops to think, and Colossus steps around her and Wade gently. 

“Your hubby? Nice Peter?” Ellie asks, slowly. “Yeah, that's him! He’s a sweet guy, very handsome, you used to talk about him constantly to me while you guys were still dating and we still, you know... talked. You guys got married, like, last year, right? Why?”

And here goes the bandaid.

“I think I’m cheating on him.” Wade says, feeling like a disobedient soldier that risked lives by doing something reckless. “With Spider-Man.”

“You’re cheating… on nice Peter? With Spidey?” Ellie tests the individual words on her tongue, black lips pulling back in disgust at the rotten taste. “That’s not possible. Really, you’re head over heels for that dude, and Spider-Man is not a home-wrecker. And what do you mean, ‘think’?”

“I don’t know if Spidey knows,” Wade continues, ignoring her valid, last question for just a moment. “But he came up to me and acted all lovey-dovey, after Peter came up to me and acted all lovey-dovey, and I don’t know what future me has been through that is making him ruin his best relationships but-”

“Future you?” Ellie interrupts. “When Cable--oh, shit. You fucked up.”

Well, it’s an understandable reaction.

*

Cable is still in the future, which is something that Wade, quite honestly, had not been expecting. The time-traveller is still as gruff and old as he remembers, and possibly even more jacked. That shouldn’t be possible, of course, but Cable tends to be an outlier to most normal things--like height, and looking ones age.

“Whoever fixed this screwed it up majorly,” Cable says, studying the little doomsday device. “It still works technically, but not in the way it’s supposed to.”

Wade flops over the table, attempting to stretch a leg over his head. He pouts when Ellie tugs her foot out of his grasp, her arms folded over her chest in the same way Spidey does whenever he gets called out for doing something dangerous by someone he semi-respects. It happens more often than one might think, considering he swoops in to help the Avengers, and the Avengers never swoop in to help him with his (but often do scold him for, like, doing the jobs they won’t).

Haha, Ellie is _ embarrassed _!

He decides to do her a solid, and doesn’t bring that little fact up to Cable.

“Okay, Mr. Exposition,” Wade winks. “Tell me more.”

Because what good story goes without useless, scientifically incoherent and generally incompetent time travel jargon?

“It’s supposed to work in linear time,” Cable says without looking up. “You know, like one steady stream? And whatever was done to this makes it so it’s leaching into other streams of time that operate at the same frequency of ours--and the past and future operate at different frequencies as well. Kind of like a multiverse, but different. A little.”

So, Endgame. Basically? Maybe.

“So you currently don’t exist in the time that you left, but in the past and future you do. Of course, your future is a little less set and stone, and depends on whether or not you can go back. ‘S probably wavering like a bitch.” Cable’s mouth twitches briefly, like he wants to say more. Probably more about his own, terrible experiences through using time travel. 

_ Boring. _

“Speaking of nothing like that,” Wade cuts into the _ fascinating _lecture, sarcasm dripping from every single word. “Where’s my favourite my little pony? I need my Pinkie-Pie fix, Elvira!”

“Yukio and I aren’t together anymore,” Ellie says, her blank face betrayed by the tiniest twitch in her cheek. “We broke up, like, last year. She’s probably in Europe right now.”

Oh no. Hell no. 

“Lovemaker Wade has got this, Ellie-bean,” he clasps his hands and lets them fall into his lap, much like he had seen many a therapist do. “What the fuck is wrong with the both of you? You were the goth-pink package, the golden deal, the amazing, abnormal contradiction of a relationship-”

“-I didn’t want to move,” Ellie defended herself.

“-and, furthermore, as someone who is from the past and saw you guys together, like, yesterday, you were so cute! Scary, but snookums. Where’s the compromise, goth Ellen? Where is it? What did you do to it?”

“Jesus, Wade,” Cable grumbles from beside him. “Chill. Things happen.”

“She didn’t want a compromise, she wanted to move, you asshole.” Ellie snaps. “I wasn’t going to stop her just because-” she stops herself. Wade can see a million emotions flash across her face, before she turns and stomps away. 

Good. Hopefully that does something. Now…

“Want to do something dangerous?” Wade asks Cable, and the militaristic asshole barely raises an eyebrow at the change in topic. “I feel like a lot of my feelings could be appropriately expressed at a family friendly zoo.”

Maybe not appropriately expressed, but definitely in a way that gets him the third page of a random newspaper, with a tiny article! Nothing tastes better than some childhood trauma to accompany one’s memory of the zoo. 

“You’re not impaling yourself on an elephant’s tusk again, moron,” Cable says. “You nearly gave the creature a heart attack. And all those pregnant women started crying. And all of the baby elephants started whining too.”

“Well, I’ll go by myself then,” Wade sniffs. “Call me when you’ve sorted out the plot device.”

“You make no sense and I hate you,” Cables says. “I don’t think you even have a phone here. I’m going to go ahead and assume that’s the case, and tell you to go fuck yourself.” Wade is about to open his mouth, and spit a witty remark that makes him seem like an ass, when Cable speaks; “Maybe I’ll even call the side-chick to get through to you. Or your _ husband. _”

And Wade thinks _ he’s _an asshole. Jesus.

He thinks he hears Cable scoff as he walks out, but he doesn’t turn around to confirm his suspicions, choosing to listen to the drumming of his own heart instead.

*

He makes it back to New York alone, Colossus speaking to Ellie--who was giving him the silent treatment--and Cable working hard on fixing whatever mistake had been made with the doo-hickey.

True to his word, he goes to the zoo.

It’s not that he _ wants _to watch a shit ton of monkeys throw shit at each other, but… he doesn’t know where else to go. He doesn’t have anywhere else to go. As far as he knows, his safe-houses are all compromised, and the more distance from Peter and Spider-Man, the better. He doesn’t need to see them and be reminded of his future mistakes, or try to explain himself when he just doesn’t have an explanation. He just doesn’t know who he is anymore, and that’s--that’s the worst feeling.

“Hey,” a voice says from behind him. “You’re not allowed to be here!” 

And, sure, the zoo is _ technically _closed. Big whoop.

But, when he turns around, it’s not the scrawny night-guard dude he had been expecting, it’s Peter. Sweet, short, nice Peter has his arms crossed and his face set in a determined frown, and Wade isn’t ready for this. “Hi,” Wade says, quietly.

The frown drips from Peter’s face like water, concern slipping into place with barely any warning. “I waited for you to get home,” Peter whispers. “I didn’t know what had happened until I called Ellie, and she said you had talked to Cable about coming here.” It’s strange that he has Ellie’s number, but not overly so. She and Peter would probably have talked when the X-Men weren’t concerned about his compromised state.

“Sorry,” Wade says, and means it. “I just…”

“We’re going home and talking about this,” Peter says, cutting him off. He starts walking towards the entrance of the zoo, and Wade follows along behind him. “I don’t know what I did that you’re upset about, but I’m not some--some damsel in distress that’s just going to sit there and take it for no reason. Hop on.” Peter gestures to his back when they reach the gate that separates them from the rest of humanity.

Well, for Wade, there’s a whole lot more than just a gate.

There is no way that Peter would be able to carry him. Zero chances of that being possible. “Ummm, are you sure that’s a good-”

Peter grabs Wade by the hand, and tosses him over the fence.

What. The Fuck.

It’s familiar, and Wade knows it because he has been thrown that way by the same person, hundreds of times. It’s almost like an inside joke, or a funny prank, but Peter isn’t laughing this time.

No. _Spidey_ isn’t laughing this time.

“You’re the same fucking person,” Wade breathes. “You’re Spider-Man, and Spider-Man is you… and you’re the same person. This whole time? Spider-Man likes me? I married Spider-Man?”

“Wade-” Peter says, forehead creasing in adorable confusion. “What do you mean?”

Wade kisses him. “I’m going to go back to my time, Petey,” he promises. “I’m going to go back, and I’m going to find you, and I’m never going to let you go. I--fuck, babe, I don’t know how I managed to score you, but I’m going to do it again.”

Realisation dawns on Peter’s face. “You haven’t met me yet.” He hops over the fence, face less angry and guarded. “You’re not my Wade.”

“I will,” Wade says. “If that’s what you want, I’ll go to the ends of the world to meet you, you just gotta ask. I can still be your Wade, but you have to tell me you want what we have now. Please, Spidey, Petey.”

Peter smiles beatifically, and his mask drops to the floor. “You don’t have to go to the ends of the world, Wade,” he touches Wade’s cheek. “I’ll always be in New York.” 

He may not have had much hope for the future before but, _ fuck, _he can’t wait for it now.

*

_The End._

**Author's Note:**

> For Knisspel on tumblr; you didn't know how you wanted it to end, so the ending is ambiguous! I hope it was worth the money :P
> 
> Also, please consider commissioning me for my writing! The details are [HERE](https://xbloodrunsredx.tumblr.com/post/188422662476/writing-comissions); I am totally happy to negotiate pricing with you! Go crazy; a story for your OC, a specific fanfiction you can't find anywhere but would be amazing if it were a thing... the ball is in your court! Thanks for supporting me and my writing!
> 
> The prompt that Knisspel's commission request fit into was 'Time Loop' (which I followed very loosely).
> 
> You have to comment and kudos for my birthday ;)


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